


Masquerade ~a dreamnotfound fanfic~

by tbhstarzhatesyou



Category: GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, dream - Fandom, dreamnotfound - Fandom
Genre: Callahan - Freeform, Crazy Plot Twists, Death, Fantasy, Georgewastaken, Lots of blushing, M/M, Nihachu - Freeform, Niki - Freeform, Old days, TechnoBlade, Tension, The Blade - Freeform, TommyInnit - Freeform, Tubbo - Freeform, Wilbur Soot - Freeform, assasin, dreamnotfound, dreamxgeorge - Freeform, enemys to lovers???, idk where this will go, kissing maybe, made up world, medieval i guess, not modern time, omg they died, sapnap - Freeform, they use water clocks, time of jousting, yummy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29299071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbhstarzhatesyou/pseuds/tbhstarzhatesyou
Summary: Prince George of Endovier lives in his thoughts. He avoids socializing at all costs. But when the masquerade ball that happens every 100 years comes around he is forced to do what makes him uncomfortable. He's willing to do it, willing to shed his identity and risk fate. But at all costs, he must avoid the heartbreaker prince, Clay of Meloria. What will happen on these nights of false names and faceless people.
Relationships: dream and georgenotfound, dreamnotfound - Relationship, dreamxgeorge
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. The night they met

**Author's Note:**

> This is like the second fanfic I'm making an attempt on writing. I know my writing style is bad but I wanted to jump into a fantasy world and risk fate with the characters. Please read my other fanfic that I'm also working on rn for a more modern approach to dreamnotfound.
> 
> I hope you like this first chapter :)

George looks in the mirror. How was he going to get through the day. The masquerade was today, the ball that happened once every 100 years, the ball that was meant to "unite", a multi-day celebration. He didn't believe in such things. Once people had their minds set on something, that was how they felt. There was no point in trying to change their minds if you knew there was no point.

The neighboring kingdoms would be coming here, some of them were already here, the sounds of their chatters floating up through the floor. George brushes the non-existent dust coating his crisp black suit. He considered taking off the jacket now, he knew that he would ditch it at some point during the night. No, he thinks to himself, he had to make an entrance, everyone did. Each person had to walk down the grand staircase, choosing a name that they would be called for the night.

He still hadn't chosen his name. He couldn't say his last name, people would treat him differently if they knew he was the crowned prince of Endovier. Perhaps he would just Come up with a last name on the spot. He was terrible at this sort of thing. He wrote so many books in his free time, and yet when it came to the real world he was hopeless. 

There was someone he was rather not pleased to see tonight. The crown prince of Meloria. He was the one person that he might hate more than himself. He annoyed him with his stupid grins and flirtatious comments. He was a heartbreaker. And no matter what, George would take no chances. Even though everyone would have bejeweled masks covering their faces, he would try with every cell in his body to avoid Prince Clay.

He was still staring in the mirror, lost in his thoughts by the time a servant knocked on his door, cracking it open slightly. "Prince George, the announcement for you will be happening very shortly." He gave them a stiff smile and a short nod. 

He looked back towards the mirror, searching for some reason to skip. He came back unsuccessful. On his way out of his chambers he grabbed his mask off of the table, sealing the fate of the night as he placed it on his face.

* * *

He stood at the top of the stairs, staring down at the mixture of people below. The only way he would be able to tell people apart was by voices, but because of his lack of socialization before tonight, he could recognize nobody, unless they told him. As the line moved forward, a nervous feeling started to grow inside him. When planning, he always avoided masquerade balls. He wanted to know who he was talking to. 

Lost in his thoughts for the second time tonight, he reached the Hall Master, who was already rushing through asking what his name would be for the night.

He stutters over his words, not wanting to be here anymore. "Ummm, Georgenotfound." he replies rather hastily, already regretting his name choice. The Hall Master shouts it, the name ringing through the large room. He makes his way down the stairs, eyes on him. These next few days would be a pain. He makes his way to the buffet table by the time the next name was called, a girl named Nihachu. Her pink ball gown flowing around her. 

George half-listens to the names, mainly just doing it for the sake of socializing later. One person catches his eye, a man who chose the name of Dreamwastaken, he didn't wear a jacket, the top-buttons of his green shirt undone. He was gorgeous, his sand-color hair creating a golden halo around his head, illuminating his sharp features more.

George stayed at the wall, his back aching in protest as the stranger neared him. Up close he was even more perfect, full mouth, green eyes the same color of emerald that were on his mask. George felt bare, his only black clothes and sapphire inspired mask seeming petty compared to the emerald one. The man stopped directly in front of him, a smile playing on his features. He extended a hand.

George eyed it, then un-crossed his arms, shaking it with many years of expertise. "Georgenotfound, I presume?" he asked, dropping his hand back to his side.

"Yes, but please just call me George, and you are?"

"Dreamwastaken, but please, just call me Dream." he said with a wink. George let out a small laugh, his mood already lifting by this brief interaction. 

"Ok, Dream, may I ask? Why did you chose that name."

The stranger, well, Dream, leaned against the wall next to him, turning his head to look at George. He was rather tall in comparison, not that it mattered. "I chose it because I always wanted to be the Dream, or be someone's Dream. I don't really know, it's just always been a part of me that I can now share." He looked back to George who was looking at him with an unnatural sort of admiration. Dream laughed, a sort of giggle which made George let out a small chuckle.

"I chose my name because I wanted to sneak away in a corner undetected," he said, doing a small dazzle with his hands. "so George would be not found."

"Well, then, " Dream said, pushing himself from where he was perched on the wall. "I'm so very sorry for interrupting your undetected stalking session." The tall man began to walk away but George reached for his hand, confused at himself for why he did that.

"Wait," he said, grasping for any reason he wanted him to stay, grasping for grammar to say the least. "don't go. You can stalk people with me." he played his desperate words off with a meaningless smile.

Dream shrugged, and continued maneuvering through the crowd. George silently cursed at himself for what he was about to do before he followed the man he just met, already attracted to the golden aura he held around himself. He carefully made his way through the crowd, making sure to avoid drinks being spilt and elbows thrown back. One man managed to elbow him in the stomach, hitting his soft spot. When he turned around George noticed he was mute but made out his sign language that his name was Callahan. George nodded at his apology and continued to follow Dream.

Next thing he knew Dream was behind him, spinning him onto the dance floor. "You dance surprisingly well." Dream said as Georges feet slid into the familiar movement he was forced to learn as a child.

"My life comes with benefits I guess." was all George said in reply as he turned them in beat to the soft classical music. "I can say the same for you. You dance like an expert." Dream laughed as he twirled George, earning a surprised sputter.

"I've always been a good dancer, but I guess you could also say my life comes with benefits." 

The dance continued, a swirl of perfect steps and cloth. Women's dresses swayed as their partner spun them, men wore foolish grins as they made small talk. Before they knew it the dance was over, closing with an abrupt stop. The people around clapped and George led them to the original wall.

"So, where are you from?" George asked, still craving more information about this mysterious man. 

"Meloria, you?" 

"Endovier, well, here." Dream hummed in response as he handed George a cup of whatever alcohol-based drink the servants filled the pitchers with. George took a sip, nodding his thanks. It was rather sweet, nice on the tastebuds. He looked over to Dream who was still sniffing the drink. George laughed and he downed it in a single gulp, wiping his hand across his face.

The night was filled with drunken joke, questions floating in the air, being answered with no boundaries. Dream lead George out of the ballroom as the other guests made their way through the courtyard for exploration. George knew the castle like no other, but he liked how Dream led him away. The question was, where would he be leading him?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, ok, a lot of information, I know. I hope you like my fantasy world that I've created, and I will be continuing with a second chapter very soon. Please leave comments, it really gives me motivation :)
> 
> I'm going to try to aim for about a week between each update, but no promises. Like I said before, I'm working on a different series at the same time as this, it's called 'Out of my league' check it out please :P I probably will update that more seeing as it's kind of a time-passer sort of thing (it gets better past like part 4)
> 
> Also consider following me on twitter @_Starz___


	2. The midnight bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past awakens in the garden, blooming with the flowers around them.

Dream led him down winding corridors, George not mentioning when he passed through the same hall that they went down minutes prior. This was almost like a game, George thought, but what game? Dream led him outside through a door that very few knew about, George noted. As they rather hurriedly walked through one of the many gardens, this one George named 'The Garden of Wonder' after seeing the midnight flowers bloom for the first time when he was eight. It was a childish name, but he kept it anyways, not wanting to change it. His link to the past. 

The midnight flowers only bloomed at night, and when they did their soft, moonlight-colored petals held secrets, any secret you could wish for. Nobody in the castle knew this, George had only figured it out when he was a child. He would sit along the many rows of them and ask them questions, only they answered. Their voices were like a hushed whisper in the breeze. You could ask them any of your heart questions, as long as you could handle the answer. 

He knew of one person that he told this too. Not his father, no, his father would not understand. He told it to his old childhood friend, a girl named Alyssa. She was the only one he had trusted with this secret. She had told her brothers Asher and Clay about it, who joined them in the viewing the next night. Despite Georges protests, Asher wanted a flower for himself and plucked one from the earth. The next morning he went missing, and their family left back the neighboring kingdom, ending their stay, in search for him. 

George missed them dearly, specifically Alyssa. He believed her to be the one, even though she was the second child of the royal house of Bryce, with Clay being the eldest. He had loved her, even though he was young and foolish. 

He snapped out of his memory, noticing how Dream had stopped them at the wall. The roses full bloom surrounded them, their red petals the color of blood. The mossy stone wall towered over the two of them, quite intimidating. He sat them down in the grass, reaching into his pocket for something. He fished out a napkin the color of ivory, gold thread laced within each of the visible corners.

George felt reckless, sneaking out of the ball with a masked stranger that he had only met hours prior. But the exhilarating feeling he got while around Dream- it felt almost perfect. Dream unfolded the napkin, pulling out mini cakes that he had snuck from the buffet table. He winked at George as he handed him one, taking a bite from his own. The two of them laid back against the mossy stone wall, exhaling in relief. It wasn't even midnight and George was already exhausted. All he wanted to do was lay back in the grass and take off his mask. But he couldn't, could he? Dream didn't know who he was, and if he did would he treat him with the same affection or make up a lame excuse to go back to the ball. George didn't want to risk it, didn't want to ruin this perfect night. 

The clock began to chime, and as George listened he realized that it was midnight. He had spent the whole night with this masked man. 

The midnight flowers.

George scrambled to hide them from view, making a fool of himself. He started to babble, trying to distract Dream from what he was making a sore attempt at hiding. He knew that Dream could probably see them through the him. Dreams eyes suddenly widened and George knew he could see them. George squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out everything and reverse the moment.

"George..." Dream whispered in wonder as he grabbed for his hand. George let him grab it, barely prying his eyes open. Dream looked beautiful, bathed in the pale glow of the flowers.

* * *

The Midnight flowers continued to bloom around them. They lite up the garden in a white light, Dream looked around him. George began to search Dreams eyes through the holes of his mask, trying to read the emotion within them. Dream kept turning to look around the two of them, in shock or wonder. George reached up to cup his face, holding his face still. Dreams attention immediately snapped to him, their eyes locking.

The severity of his eyes was unyielding, the stare so deep George had to look away. "Dream..." he started, but was cut off by the angelic voice of Dream.

"George do you know how long it has been since I've seen these..." George looked back at him, forgetting that he did not know who George was, whos face was behind the mask. George shook his head. "Did you know that these were here?" Dream asked, locking eyes with George again. This time they were gentle, lovable. George was at a loss for words. He confided in a nod, sticking with the silent answer. Dream looked back to the flowers while George stared at him. The sharp lines of his face were more defined, a longing urge to trace them in the glow overtook George.

George wanted to dance with him, in the moment right now, in the glow of the flowers he wanted to dance to the non-existent music. Dream must have to noticed his staring because he peeled his eyes away from the flowers to look at George. The light reflected off of the small emeralds embedded on his mask. He smiled, grabbing Georges hand and pulling him up from where he sat on the earth. 

"Before the music dies, dance with me." George blurted, immediately covering his hand over his mouth. Dream turned and looked at him thoughtfully before chuckling and moving back towards George. He brought their hand that was connected over the shoulder, his hand falling into place at Georges waist. George gasped and looked down at the intimate touch. Dream freed his hand to lift Georges chin upward, forcing him to look him in the eyes. He rest his hand back to its position and began to sway to the faint music that floated from the ballroom all the way through the gardens. The midnight flowers began to fold in on themselves, the white-purplish petals crumpling.

The two of them continued dancing, eyes locked within their own. What would happen after the next nights, George dared to think. He remembered reading in one of his history books that on the final night each person as they were leaving would stand atop the grand staircase and remove their mask. He would try to be the last to leave, try to stay behind this made up persona a little while longer. He didn't want the magic to end. Although he was quite wager to see who was behind the mask of his new-what was he to him. Friend? Something more? It didn't matter, all he needed to know was who lurked behind that green bejeweled mask and unbuttoned white shirt. 

He wanted to tear the shirt from his body. Rip the fabric covering the map of this man. He knew he should not be thinking of this, he was a prince, he was not allowed to think these thought about a _man_ , let alone a stranger. But this person before him, who chose to dance to the faint music with him, did not feel like a stranger. He wanted to spend the night with this person, lay on the ground and gaze up at the stars with him until they fall asleep. It need not be intimate but rather just a gesture. I need to put this in my book, George noted to himself, tucking the thought into his reminders.

Who he really wanted to see take off their mask was Clay. They hadn't seen each other for 5 years since his family had come to tie the union between the two kingdoms. Though many rumors still floated through the servants, mainly the traveling ones who were in charge of the trades. He had women always following in his wake, always hooking up with them in the most bizarre of places.

Who would he catch the foreign prince with this time, George thought to himself as him and Dream swayed under the stars. Minutes, maybe hours pass with them under the diamond sky before they laid down in the grass, pointing out the constellations that they could see. 

The night was absolutely perfect, and when they left to go to their separate quarters for the night, George to his own room and Dream to the guest rooms where all of the foreign people would be staying over the next few days.

Even though he hated these masquerade balls, he was exited for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This-uh-wow, ok, um this was crazy. I think that explains how I feel. I find the two of them so cute and the mystery between them electric. I might just let the sparks fly within the next few night but I don't really know. I'm riding this wild ride of emotion with you guys!  
> I should probably make a plot....BUT NOPE
> 
> My musical inspiration for this/ what I'm always listening to IS 'The Phantom of the Opera' music, specifically 'Masquerade!' and 'Medley: Down once more/Track down this murderer' …long story short I did start crying half-way through writing this because of the music-HELP!!!
> 
> Remember: comments= ~fuel~ ---lately I haven't been feeling so 'inspirational' but ya know, I'm pushing through because in one day there was a lot of attention on this...meaning you like it I guess! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS!!!!  
> remember to follow me on twitter: @_Starz___
> 
> That's all :>


	3. The forbidden thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some bedtime thought and early morning troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello bitches i hope you had a happy valentines day heres an interesting but uneventful chapter :P have fun

He needed to socialize with the others over the next few days. It was unfair to only single out one person, this was a ball for goodness sakes. And one that happened once every hundred years. The next time that this would happen, he would have passed onto the grave, his ancestors ruling the kingdom with a crown prince of their own. But that was a long time from now. By then he would have been king and then not, back to how he began.

He lay in his bead, staring up at the ceiling. He slept for a little but as soon as the dreams of the emerald-masked man he awoke in a hurried manner. He needed to stop thinking about him, it was one night, and rather uneventful...even if the thought of him sent shivers down his spine, made him blush with no exceptions, made him wish for more. This was not normal, and as much George wanted it to stop, it wouldn't. I suppose it will stop when the masquerade ends, George thought to himself, when he figured out that Dream was just another noble, just another person in this world of politics and crowns with swirly dresses and puffy shirts. A stunning noble though, he'd never seen anyone with those sharp features, those bright green eyes the color of a meadow in early Spring.

He sat up in bed, pounding his ears with his hands. George reached over to the table that sat beside his bed, grabbing his notepad and the pen that always was near it. He flipped through his notepad, ignoring all of his discarded ideas. He reached the next empty page, dipping his pen in the ink pot before beginning to write down all of the moments he wanted to happen with that masked foreigner. He would paint the story like a fairy tale. This would be the thing that would break his most unfortunate writer block, he decided, pen moving swiftly across the paper in the dim light.

He painted scenes of them running through the kitchens, snatching bread in their wake as they weaved in between the servants. The two of them sitting on the beach near the secret lake that George founded with Alyssa when they were younger, George taking off Dreams mask, then Dream taking off his own. Scenes filled with mystery and risk, scenes filled with joy and-and love.

He needed sleep. If he was day-dreaming like this then he must be very tired. He could not think these thought about some boy, he was a prince for goodness sakes, he would be king some day, he would need to produce heirs. So this was not a way to spend his restless nights. But this was just for his book, he tried to convince himself. Oh this was hopeless.

He needed so go to bed, needed to store as much energy as he could. Tomorrow would be a long day, and he needed to mentally prepare. Oh, but how he dreaded having to wear that stupid mask. But, oh Dream would be there. He placed his pen and notebook back on his bedside table and laid back down. He could not wait for what tomorrow beheld.

* * *

George awoke with a start, his eyes flicking open in the beat of a heart. He was excited for today. Normally he would want to lay in his warm bed, writing about his many fantasy worlds, ignoring life around him; but no, today he would mingle with the others, learn some new faces and- and see that meadow-masked-mystery-man again. George blushed at the thought of him.

He could see what he would wear today from where he lay under his warm blankets. His servant came in through the side door, carrying his breakfast platter. "Wendy," George says, catching her attention.

"Your highness, you know that you're not supposed to call me by my name."

He rolled his eyes, "Well every person deserves to be called by their name, and you know how I feel about you calling me 'your highness', it's a stupid thing really." he says, putting an emphasis on the last part.

She let out a soft giggle. "Well, _George_ , was there anything you needed of me?"

"Yes, well, I was wondering when the masquerade was going to start back up, and what time it was," he thought for a moment before hastily adding "if you know of course."

"The water clock said it was a fourth past 8, meaning the masquerade should start in about one hour." I nod my thanks before she exits the room, her skirts rustling with the movement. She had a half-decent amount of magic, more than the rest of the servants at least. George himself had a good amount of magic, or at least he thought so. He had never used it before, well, except for one time when he was at the age of five. The doctor had called it 'a magical outburst' after he had almost burned down the entire main garden. Apparently it had been suppressed for too long, but George didn't care. He didn't care for magic at all really. He wanted it out of his life, and never talked about it or used it.

But that came with some difficulties, seeing as he came from two of the strongest bloodlines. Both of his parents had more magic than most of the people in their age group, meaning that he had to have a lot. But he didn't want to touch his magic after the outburst, didn't want to go into that pit and see how much magic he really had. Of course he would need to when he turned 20. Like everyone did they needed to break past their barrier and go into the cold depths of their core to reach the bottom of their 'magical pit'. It would be interesting but he could gladly go without it.

Whenever he was writing his fantast worlds he made sure to eliminate magic, make it so nobody could use it for simple household chores. It was more like a weapon, not a match or a broom. It was a weapon that needed to be yielded and used to precision, not toyed with. But he would have to touch his magic soon-like everyone had to do when they turned 20. He had to dive into that pit, and break through the barrier to reach the full limits to his magic. 

George got out of bed, walking over to his desk where the breakfast platter lay. He glanced at the water clock; 15 minutes had passed.

George ate a few things off of the platter, not caring for the seasoned porridge. He could eat at the masquerade if he got hungry. The thought of the masquerade sent smiles from his toes to the top of his head. George wasn’t one to smile at the smallest of things, and some people deemed it quite hard to get him to smile. But Dream- Dream made him smile at the very thought. What was this feeling, he racked his brain, searching for a name of what this was.

He came back with nothing. George changed into his attire, struggling with the tie for a little too long. H eventually got it, hastily done but done in the least. On his way out he stopped to look in the mirror, noting his perfectly put together self. A total contrast to the messily put together Dream, but he had still looked perfect, even with his messy hair and top-unbuttoned shirt.

Oh, he was thinking about him again. George, he scolded himself, I thought we decided to leave this in the stories. Oh but it's Dream, the voice seemed to say, it's your Dream. 

He wasn't even to the masquerade and he could already tell that his earlier hopes had been crushed before he made it out the door; he would not be able to make it through today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG yes, yes, yes, I know that I didn't get much done in this chapter and like NOTHING happened but I think it gave insight to the backround information and tells you more about this forbidden feeling that George is trying to comprehend. Stick with me and like I remind every single time: LEAVE FRICKEN COMMENTS YOU HOES- im sorry yall are not hoes but you could be my bitch ;) jk it's like 3:22am leave me alone and drop some comments...0-0 that was smooth
> 
> also i did look up it, and they used water clocks around this age to tell time, aka im done being dumb
> 
> follow my twitter and add me on discord :P  
> twt: _starz___  
> twt where i talk about my fanfics: tbhstarzhatesyo  
> disc: starz#6969


	4. The brush of feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just random junk and jokes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while writing this I deleted the whole chapter on accident when i only had a paragraph left to write so- so this is the sorta summed up piece ;-;, I haven't started rewriting it because I wanted the feeling to be ~fresh~ when i talk about it and no joke- i think im gonna cry it was so perfect ;-; and now yall are reading the imperfect version- ok.

Today there would be no announcements of the people, we were expected to remember who everyone was. Thankfully he paid somewhat attention to the Hall Master when he had quickly said names yesterday. As he made his way down the stairs, he tested his mind to see if he remembered some faces. 

As he neared the end of the stairs he saw a sandy colored head leave through the doors to the garden. Dream. George scurried down the rest of the stairs he weaved his way through the crowd. He reached the glass doors and swung them open, walking out into the morning air. He searched around, taking another step to see further. There was nobody there, and Dream the Giant would not be able to hide behind the hedges. 

Suddenly he felt a finger tap his shoulder. George spun around faster then the jousters could knock each other off. **(I wanted to say faster then Dream could speedrun but that is in the far future from when this takes place.)** His mask began to fall off and George shoved his hand against his face, this would be bad. He began to tie it but his fingers kept stumbling over the knot in the back.

"Here let me help." the shoulder tapper said, moving back behind him and reaching up to tie the strands. Dream. The mask slipped a little more as he grasped the strands, George holding it with all of his dignity. His thumb brushed Georges ear for a split second, sending shivers down his spine. George, he scolded himself, stop. "And I'm alllllll...Done!" he said, drawing out the 'L'. He stepped back and admired his handiwork before walking back towards the stone wall next to the doors.

"Where were you?" George asked, joining him on the wall. 

"Oh," he said, letting out a small chuckle. "I was behind the door and I knew that you would follow me, I just wanted alone time."

"Oh..." he said, turning his head so he could see Dreams face. He was even more beautiful today, he thought to himself, and I didn't even know that it was possible. His faint curls turned golden in the morning light, his eyes a little more lime colored. Today he had small emeralds over the arch of his brow, and some along his jaw. It was not too much as to give off the look of overwhelming, but enough to get off the look of regal. He looked like a prince, which said a lot considering George was actually a prince. Dreams eyes swirled with fire, burning, and yet cold like ice, they glowed like the sun, although they seemed soft like grass covered in the fresh morning dew. He wondered what magic Dream might posses, it was a ruse thing to ask seeing as the peasants barely posses one element, let alone control it. And as you go up on the social ladder, the more control they seem to have, because of the classes that money could buy. Being royalty, George possessed it all, which was rather annoying seeing with his lack of interest in the subject. When they turned 20 and break through the single barrier, you were told to pick one to master, so what would George choose seeing as he hadn't touched it in over 10 years. And what was this mystery mans magic, did he have multiple? George shook his head, clearing it of the thoughts. "Wait, why did you want alone time?" He stared into those intoxicating eyes. 

It was now Dreams turn to stare at him. He gripped his chin with his hand, tilting it up. He searched Georges eyes before leaning down and bringing his lips mere centimeters away. Georges heart felt like it was doing it's own little tap dance in his chest, the wanting was strong, he wanted to kiss him so badly right now. George felt his face heat up at the thought. A smile pulled at Dreams lips as he dropped Georges chin, leaning back against the wall. "You thought I was going to kiss you, didn't you." George just nodded, his face burning even more. Dream slightly turned his head to see the action. "Did you want me to kiss you though" George nodded again, his back still pressed firmly against the stone bricks. "I'll keep that in mind for later." was all Dream said as he stalked back inside through the tall glass doors, leaving Georges heart behind.

Oh no he did not just do that, George thought to himself, leaning down and covering his face with his hands. The audacity of this masked man, how could he do that and then just...leave him! 

George stormed in through the glass doors, only stopping when he heard a voice come from next to him. He turned, seeing a girl in slight stature, with pink hair. It wasn't weird seeing her with hair the color of pink lady apples that grew in the garden- no, it was so subtle that it worked, her pink gown matching in color. Her white mask, studded with a gem he had never seen before was the only contrast, her pink eyes pulling the look together near perfectly.

"Hi," she says with a slight smile. A faint memory tickled at his brain, what was her name again? Nila? Nakela? Nahemia? "My names Nihachu." she says, thrusting her hand out towards him. Ah that was her name. He shook her hand rather reluctantly, normally woman ay court were not so- what was the word- outgoing.

"I'm Georgenotfound." He says, letting go of her hand. . "How are you enjoying the masquerade so far?"  
  
  
"Oh, it is quite beautiful." she replied rather shyly, looking around the room. Her pink eyes glittered in the candle light, illuminating more of her features. "Actually, I have a question for you George." his heart began to speed up, was it because he used his real name-did she know who he was..."Do you know more about the man who called himself 'Wilbur Soot'? It's a weird name but he did catch my eye yesterday." she turned back towards him, looking George directly in the eyes.  
  
  
"Oh, no I don't know anything about him actually but I do know that he should be right..." George looked around, trying to spot out where he stood... Ah! "right over there." he says, pointing to where he stood next to the potted plant, glaring at someone who George faintly remembered to be called 'Jared' or something like that.  
  
  
Nihachu said her quick thanks before scurrying across to where Wilbur was. Oh how cute the clueless were.

**Nihachus dress ^^^**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this is probably just a quarter of the day so far and yes, it was quite uneventful!  
> We have introduced Niki now tho! tell me if you like her dress :> AND COMMENT PLEASE
> 
> you know the drill  
> twitter: _starz___  
> discord: starz#6969


	6. The Blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions on some other characters~ some good and some bad.

From where he stood against the wall, near the great window, he could see almost everything. The window took up the whole wall, which for others would be near three floors high- but when building the castle, his old friends’ ancestors had been a fan of vaulted ceilings.

So here he stood on the slightly heightened floor, watching the rest of the party goers introduce themselves, to ones they hadn’t talked to before while others clung to the ones they claimed theirs. It was quite a mesmerizing act, a trance of swaying feet, swirls of color and feathers flying. What amazed him most was the variety of masks; some embedded with expensive jewels, some with colored feathers and some covered with glitter. The dresses, although some were as bedazzled as much as their masks, most were plain and simple, meant to draw attention to the faces of the wearers.

The paper faces were on parade, the reds, golds, blues and purples, the sparkle, the shine, the shimmer and glimmer. The swirls of fabric, the tapping of shoes...

Everyone was lost in the sound of the music, the time unaware. But not for him- no, he knew exactly what was going on. As he glanced at his miniature water clock, quickly calculating how much time he needed before he would strike. This was an act meant for no other man, for no other man was as skilled as he, as skilled as-

The Blade.

* * *

George was still scouting out Dream when another voice came next to him. This one he recognized right away, after many hours avoiding him at the jousts and tournaments hosted for the knights- although he most likely wouldn't recognize him.

“Hiya there!” the boy said with a wave, his friend who was practically attached to him unsurprisingly lurking behind his shoulder.

Already starting to get socially drained, George mustered up a reply.

"My name is Tommyinnit, and this over 'ere," he said, pointing over his shoulder to his friend, his heavy accent tripping and marking him from Meloria, "is Tubbo."

George nodded to the two of them, their energy already making him want to leave- but no. He was the prince. He could muster up a few words without being a coward and ditching it. "Have you found anyone interesting yet?" he asked, already regretting his choice of words after inspecting them~ they were most obviously children.

"Nah," Tommy answered, obviously the talker of the two. "I'm just here to cause trouble and ruin relationships." 

"Wow- um, have fun I guess?" 

"We will, and uh Tommy I think I found our next victim." Tubbo said as he pointed to where Wilbur and Nihachu stood. Welp I think this is where I take my leave, George thought to himself as he scooted away towards the great window. 

As he wandered around the perimeter of the room he noted down who he would talk to and who he wouldn't. And, oh, where was that Dream. He was as addicting as a drug, as watching the jousts, as writing his books, as reading the stories from others, as- well he just couldn't go without him for long. As he maneuvered through the sweaty bodies, some clustered against the walls, some stranded alone with a tall glasses balanced between their fingers. 

Someone stood on the platform, their pink pig mask glittering against the morning light flowing through the large pane of glass. They seemed to give off a sense of danger, causing most people to avoid them but- but George was drawn to this mystery, almost like he was drawn to Dream. As he walked closer with his head held high he started to notice the small details. Things like how it looked as thought he had a slight limp, his long pink braid flowing down his back- longer than most would keep it and in a simple style unlike the fancy hair styles the others wore for the masquerade. 

He was so simple, so different from the others, all of his clothes plain, well except for his glittering and shining pig mask and his robe in the style of a traditional kings robe. The loose white shirt he wore reminded George of a pirate, his tight black pants and red waist sash not helping much to defy the claim. It was an outfit like no other. It set him apart, the difference such a wide range.

As George approached him he noticed even more, how he had his eye trained on something to the left, a person most likely- or a moving object seeing as his eyes would move ever so slightly. It was such a small gesture, unnoticed to the untrained eye, but George as prince had to notice everything- if he didn't there could be death, like what happened last year.

As he neared a mere 4 feet away he felt something tug on him. As he turned around to swat them away he noticed how the pig man was staring behind him. George turned, nearly knocking them over. "Dream?"

"George we've got to go...now." George was so confused, what was he talking about?

"Why? What do you mean?"

"I'll explain later." was all he said as he began to pull George away. George took one last look over his shoulder to the pig-masked man behind him who- who was now staring directly at George.

"Dream..." he whispered as he got pulled through the crowd, unaware that this simple act could ruin this week of masquerade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii :) sorry this was a kind of short chapter compared to my other short chapters... um~ it was really hard to write as I neared the end, I wanted to leave it at a big cliffhanger without making it only 800 words :')  
> TELL ME IF YOU LIKED THAT BEGINNING BTW!!!
> 
> do the drill:  
> discord: starz#6969  
> twitter: _starz___
> 
> ily guys so much and I'm really excited for where this book is going~ it's a wild ride and you're the person I'm taking with me on the winding roller coaster.


	7. The Death in the Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH I'm so sorry that this took so long but- it was hard to write! I'm very happy with how it turned out and I hope you will be too <3
> 
> NOW GET TO READING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw//minor swearing, blood/death

He led him through the winding halls, the stone scratching against Georges black shirt. As they neared what would be the opposite side of the castle, Dream took him into the servants passage ways, a place where George had been banned from after sneaking into once before. It was hard for the two of them to fit side by side, so Dream opted so pull George behind him, his arm reaching back to grab his hand. Georges mind was too jumbled up to notice the small sentimental act, too confused to notice Dreams cheeks slightly flush when he intertwined their fingers as he pulled George behind him.

They ran through the winding paths until they found someplace secluded, dark, and silent. "Dream," George yelled in an angry haze, Dream shushed him. "what the fuck are you doing?!" he whispered into the open crisp air. Dream took a look over each of his shoulders before leaning down to whisper in Georges ear, his hands bracing himself against the wall, his hot breath sending electric shocks down Georges spine.

"George I'm going to tell you something but you have to promise not to freak out." George nodded, unable to make any noise. "That man is 'The Blade' and he's here for me." George let out a startled gasp but was quickly hushed by Dream covering his mouth with his hand. The Blade. He was the most notorious assassin of the time, and was known to never fail. It was impossible to find him; you had to go through a series of steps to even give him a 'job' or target per say. Let alone to _be_ the target~ you were practically dead.

"Dream..." he tried to whisper through Dreams smothering hand. He looked up into those green hues. The stare wasn't hard~ no, it was soft, and it gazed up and down his body like a soft caress. His hand shifted as he stroked Georges cheek with his thumb. Georges breaths became shallow, his face heating. Dream leaned down as if to whisper something but his teeth nipped at Georges ear. "Dream." George practically moaned, sending a deep chuckle through the friend. This was wrong on so many levels but at the same time it felt so _right._

Dream brushed his teeth against his his ear again, this time lowering his hand to Georges waist. George arched into him- not on purpose, no, but on instinct. He wanted him. He wanted to shove his lips against Dreams, wanted to intertwine his fingers within those golden locks, wanted to feel Dreams hands on his body. Oh he wanted him so so badly.

As Dreams began to pull back from where his head had been near Georges ear, George grabbed his head and shoved their lips together. The kiss sent shivers down his spine, burning, and yet a blazing sort of cold. 

So there they stood in one of the servant passage ways, George pressed against the cold stone with Dream leaning against the wall. It was a tight fit, their bodies crushed against each other. The two of them were gasping for air, sweat plastered on their foreheads. George tilted his head back to get a better look at Dream. His face was flushed, eyes searching Georges own, bouncy golden hair intertwined with Georges fingers. His green eyes were dark, the emeralds on his mask shining even more. George had to check that his own mask was on before leaning in for another kiss. Just before their lips collided in a series of sparks, footsteps sounded from down the hall.

Dream heard it to, for he grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the opposite direction. The foot steps seemed to follow them. It was nerve racking almost, but as George knew that only few people could navigate these halls, he decided to risk fate. 

He dropped Dreams hand, earning a rather frightened look from the- friend. George turned around, motioning for Dream to stay put as he went down the hall to where he knew the follower was.

"All guests should be in the ballroom. All guests are not allowed in this section of the castle- let alone these passageways." The male servant rambled on from where he stood in front of him. Luckily it was just at a corner, meaning the servant was just out of Dreams view. George turned, giving Dream one last look before turning back to the confused man.

As George lifted up his mask, in a quick motion, he saw the mans face change with realization forming over it. "Oh- oh my. You see I was just following protocol and- I- I didn't-" he scrambled on as George placed his mask back onto his face. He shushed the worried man, not wanting to ruin his false identity to Dream. The man seemed to understand as well; I mean, who would voluntarily kiss- talk to the stuck up prince. 

He turned to Dream and sped-walked back towards him, leaving the man confused and startled. "What happened back there." Dream asked as they continued to walk through the tight halls.

George tilted his head to the side to look at the... friend, studying his features. "I guess he was just startled by my beauty." he shrugged. 

Dream gave a slight laugh. "Who knew, now you're just raising my expectations. I didn't even get to see his reaction." Dream pouted, a look that on others might be petty but on him it was- actually cute. George blushed and continued walking. Where the man had stood, out of Dreams view, was on purpose. He knew Dream wasn't the type of person to do it, but he had heard stories of people asking, then bribing, the servants who had seen some of the mask-wearers faces.

"How do we get out of here anyway." George asked after minutes of mindless wandering.

"Ummm..." Dream began to look around, "you look for the little clues." George began to join him in looking- but he still didn't really understand what he was looking for until Dream yelled out a small _aha!_ He swung open a door and as George peered out of it, his mind clicked and he knew where they were.

"This way," he murmured, grabbing Dreams hand as he began to pull them along. The amount of hallways in this place is crazy, George thought to himself for about the one-millionth time in his lifetime of living here. It was a big castle, one of the biggest compared to those of the surrounding kingdoms. George knew they were close but Dream knew it too. A scream cut out from not too far ahead- sending shocks through the both of them. They exchanged looks before breaking out in a sprint. 

* * *

A large crowd was gathered around something, whispers and sniffles floated about the room, filling the tearful silence. Both him and Dream began asking around, confused. Nobody answered but their questions were answered when Tommy pointed towards the middle of the circle. Dream and George locked eyes before pushing through the ever growing crowd.

Punz.

His body lay sprawled across the white marble- his body twisted in all the wrong angles. George choked on the lump in his throat, a small sob breaking through the hand muffled over his mouth. The blood began to pool around him- eating up around his mask that lay a few feet away on the ground. George looked up from the destroyed body that lay on the ground to the people surrounding it. 

Nihachu was shaking, accompanied why Wilbur Soot, who stood to her left rubbing comforting circles across her back. George watched as a tear slid down his face, but Wilbur quickly wiped it away. 

Dream spoke into the melancholy air, softly, and yet his voice was filled with a sense of stern sharp authority, "Who did this." some people looked up towards him, some kept their eyes down to the floor, but nobody answered. He began to look around the room, "Who did this." he spoke louder. All eyes were upon him now, he looked each person individually. A girl shuffled forward, looking Dream directly in the eyes, she stood with preternatural stillness, almost infuriating so. "Do you know of something?" he asked her, his words oozed with power- authority.

"Yes." was all she said, and as she spook you could hear how carefully chosen her words were. "I was the one who found him like this- I can tell you what I saw."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOOOOOOOOOO PUNZZZZZZZZZ HOW COULD HE- whoever killed him...0-0 - shush I know nothing
> 
> BUT NO MY POOR PUNZ
> 
> ok did you like this chapter tho? I was trying something different, and was actually aiming for 2000 words but like- a cliffhanger happened and I had to face the very hard decision. 2000 words or 1500 with a cliffhanger...?
> 
> So I decided to make you guys suffer...
> 
> :)
> 
> The drill:  
> discord: Starz#6969  
> twitter: _Starz___
> 
> I love you guys and thank you for all the support you've given me <333
> 
> also as a side note- HAPPY 4 MONTHS BB


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